


Team 7

by Ray_Writes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Fix-It, Gen, Human Experimentation, Post-Episode: s04e18 Eleven-Fifty-Nine, Unethical Experimentation, these are referenced rather than explicitly shown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 10:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18602839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: Laurel survives Darhk, only to find herself in perhaps an even worse situation under the supervision of The Wall.





	Team 7

**Author's Note:**

> So this was just a little blurb that popped into my head that I wrote up tonight. I don't really know if it'll be continued. This is just more of a what-if, I guess. And yes, I'm aware in the New 52 run featuring Black Canary in Team 7 it was the Dinah Drake incarnation, but I raise you Arrow doesn't give a crap about comics canon so why should I. Hopefully, you enjoy this!

Laurel woke with a gasp. Everything hurt and the lights were too bright. She turned her face away, her cheek landing on a cool, metal table. Hadn’t she been on a bed? Laurel tried to sit up, but found she was tied down.

“Welcome back, Miss Lance,” said a voice she only vaguely recognized. A woman stepped closer and her face blocked out some of the overhead light. Squinting allowed Laurel to make out the face, though it didn’t make the sight any less impossible.

“Waller?”

The infamous former head of ARGUS smirked. “In the flesh.”

“But you died. I’m pretty sure  _ I _ died,” Laurel said. Her throat felt odd and prickly, and there was a gravelly quality to her voice. Somehow, she didn’t think a request for water would be acknowledged. “What are we doing here?”

“My death was merely for show. The same as the one I manufactured for you,” Waller told her.

Laurel narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“ARGUS was growing too compromised. Between pressure from the government and meddling from our friend Mr. Queen and his associates, I knew the time when ARGUS could be an effective measure for ensuring national security was drawing to an end. I had to go underground.”

“So you getting shot. That was all fake.” To think they’d held something of a memorial for the woman.

Waller nodded. “What I needed was something smaller that could move with greater efficiency. That’s where you come in.” The woman reached for the restraints at Laurel’s wrists, unlocking them and the ones at her ankles. Warily, Laurel sat up. She noticed two things right away. The first was that she had been changed into a simple, black outfit. The second was that, though she felt a general achiness, the site of her stab wound was not bothering her. An experimental hand laid over it didn’t elicit any pain response either.

“How long have I been out?”

“Walk with me,” Waller replied. Grudgingly, Laurel followed her to the door and out into a hall. Her hair was hanging lower than she was used to. That could only mean she had missed a great deal of time.

The more she could discover about her current situation, the faster she could get herself out of it. Laurel caught up with her guide. “So what’s the big threat to national security you’re so worried about now?”

“It’s never just one. But the one most concerning, the one that’s spreading, is metahumans.”

“Metahumans?”

“They’re spreading out across the country unchecked, and more are discovering their abilities every day.” Waller shook her head in disgust. “Wells and his particle accelerator have plunged this nation into crisis. People turning to crime en masse simply because they think they’re unstoppable.”

“So why not offer to work alongside the Flash and his team? They’ve been handling the situation for this long.”

“The Flash is unstable and accountable to no one but himself,” Waller stated flatly. “Our intelligence details multiple incidents where poor decision making has led to the escape of metahuman criminals, tears in the fabric of our own reality, and possible disturbances to the timeline of Earth’s events.”

Laurel was silent. She couldn’t verify whether the first thing Waller had listed was true or not, but everything about the parallel Earth and time travel held up as far as she knew.

“I need people under my command, who I can trust to do what needs to be done.”

Laurel stopped walking and crossed her arms. “And you think that’s me. How am I supposed to battle metahumans?”

She didn’t mean to sell herself short, but Laurel knew in an out-and-out fight with someone who had Barry’s powers, she’d be hard-pressed to do much of anything. And she was used to fighting with a team. God, the team. Where were they? What did they think? Waller said she’d ‘manufactured’ a death for her...is that what her friends and family believed had happened?

Waller paused as well. “You asked how long you’d been out. I assume your brain has chosen to suppress the memories.”

It was like a chill entered the hallway they stood in. She forced her voice to remain level as she asked, “Memories of what?”

“Your DNA contained the gene needed to activate metahuman abilities. Dormant, but some experimentation took care of that.”

Laurel stepped up to Waller. “You  _ experimented _ on me?”

“And healed you from your encounter with Damien Darhk,” Waller answered unapologetically. “Without my people, you would have died. Now, you’re stronger than ever.”

She was shaking where she stood. In rage, in fear; it was hard to tell what was stronger. “What did you do to me?”

“You’ll have a chance to see for yourself, once you’ve met the other member of your team we’ve acquired so far.” Waller turned and opened a door, letting them into a narrow room with a conference table. Laurel froze as she caught sight of the room’s sole occupant. “I believe you’ve met Mr. Wilson.”

“Charmed as ever, Miss Lance,” Slade Wilson said as he stood from his chair. “I hear you’ve had a rough go of things the last few months.”

Laurel glared. “If you think I would ever work with him—”

“I understand your reservations. I deserve them,” Wilson stated. His hands were both raised in a display that he held no weapons. “Since the Mirakuru and its madness has entirely left my system, I’ve had time to reflect on my past actions. I regret my vendetta with Oliver and the suffering it caused.”

“Mr. Wilson has agreed to work with my organization to atone for those crimes,” Waller explained. Laurel didn’t take her eyes off Wilson as she did so. Whether he was remorseful or not, the man was dangerous even without a boost from the Mirakuru. “In fact, I’ve taken some inspiration from his former assignment with ASIS. Welcome to the new Team 7.”

“The new Suicide Squad, you mean,” Laurel said.

Waller shook her head. “Feel your neck.”

She did so, not noticing anything unusual.

“There’s no bombs, no threats on your life.”

Laurel waited, but that was it. So what was the trick? What was to stop her from walking out the nearest exit? Maybe Wilson felt compelled to help the woman who had undoubtedly rescued him from that island prison — something Laurel had always felt disquieted about, but didn’t exactly have the leverage to suggest an alternative.

So she decided to call the bluff. “You just expect me to fight for you? To kill my friends?”

“No, Miss Lance. I expect you to curtail them — through whatever means may be necessary.” Waller leaned forward. “Because if you don’t, I can always find someone who will.”

So there it was. She’d been crafted into some kind of weapon for Waller to deploy at her discretion. If she didn’t comply, it would be someone else taken and experimented on. Maybe someone who didn’t know the others, who didn’t care about them.

“I should also mention, your teammates have made a return to society far more complicated for you,” Waller added, and Laurel had a strong suspicion she enjoyed this; the breaking down of another person’s spirit. “There’s plans for a monument dedicated to you as the Black Canary.”

“What?” Her secret identity had been exposed? She’d thought the doctor at the hospital had been willing to be discrete. But if her vigilante activities were known…

She couldn’t go back.

Slade was watching her with something that looked suspiciously like sympathy, and it was almost too much to stand. Laurel marched from the room, striding blind down hallways she couldn’t tell apart from each other.

It wasn’t fair. Life never was, but that had been  _ her _ life. Her job, her friends, her family, her love—

Laurel rushed into a closed-in yard with high, concrete walls all around. Something was rising up within her, something she didn’t think she could control. Her mouth opened, and the scream it let out burst from her with a power she’d never possessed before. The waves hit the wall opposite her and the concrete cracked from the center point outward.

She dropped to one knee, the breath leaving her, and stared at what she’d done. What she’d become.

“So, Canary,” said Waller, only a few steps behind. “Do we have a deal?”


End file.
